Granted I can’t see the shards that pierce your heart ; But I can feel the pain.
Don’t sit there all alone on the island of your sorrow ; Hold my hand.
I promise I won’t ask anything – the pregnant silence has a story to tell.
Let’s just sit here together and care and share.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Some one asked me how would I describe India in one word. I thought for a long time. Would it be diverse. Or large? rainbow? multicultural? So many adjectives came to my mind. Finally I simply said,"colorful."

This thought came to me yesterday when we were performing the gruh yagna , a precursor to the wedding.It is a ritual meant to appease all the stars in the planet and is a must before any auspicious occasion. It ensures that no star in the planet creates any hurdles. I marveled at the riot of colors. Onal was dressed in a beautiful flaming orange saree wearing the elegant mandavani , a string of pearls on the forehead. Her papa looked dapper in a red dhoti and her mom elegant in a burgundy sari. The decorations with the leaves gave it a very soothing touch.This was just a yagna.

Now just another three days to go for the wedding. I can visualize a riot of colors.

I too have decided to add some color and get out of my stuffy suits for a change and make a fashion statement. Planning to wear a dhoti and a kurta. Friends are all amused. Many are predicting a malfunction. I am convinced. I want to go ethnic.can't rule out last minute jitters and reverting back to same old suits. years of practice cant just go away.

They say that some marriages are made in heaven. I used to feel its clichéd. Not anymore.This one looks like as if the gods themselves sat and matched the horoscopes house by house and planet by planet.

Onal was chatting with her fiancé and he jokingly asked if she would cry while leaving the home. Onal also jokingly told him that like a true desi heroine she would run back frm the car’s open door and hug her mother and start howling.

Her fiancé’s rejoinder was an absolute cracker. He told her that in that case I will leave by car. You can catch a bus or train and come. My eyes were moist. Damn ! he is as sensitive as us. He could hae just walked into our family. I remembered the time when I was leaving to join my first job and mom became a bit emotional at the station. I pretended as if I wasn’t even related to her. Mother never forgave me for not having any ‘daya’ ‘maya’ ( love and affection in Marathi).

We are giving the wedding preparations a final touch. Which in simple English means doing things we had totally forgotten. Close friends who know my management skill advise me that the biggest service I could render is by staying away. No work means no work gone wrong.

Some last minute cards to be posted, some last minute changes, some extra flourishes in the decorations. Something is always amiss.

We do not want anything to go wrong. But already the wedding has lost some of its sparkle. The live wire sis- in-law had to leave for USA for her studies. She could be the life of the party. Its sad she had to leave. But that is life. You win some you lose some.

She has ordered me to arrange for her to see the wedding live. Hope we can do that. Everyone is asking me when do I return to USA. I haven’t planned. This is the real war. This wedding.

Returning is child’s play. All you have to do is by a ticket, duck weepy relatives and sit inside the aeroplane long enough till your butt feels like a ton of bricks.